


Into the Darkness

by oaken



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: In the Fade, M/M, i'm a sucker for hope and good endings, meet me in the pit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 05:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15163646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oaken/pseuds/oaken
Summary: Hawke had survived Lothering, Kirkwall and even Nightmare. When it seems like the Fade is finally going to do him in, an unexpected glimmer of hope appears.





	Into the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vamat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vamat/gifts).



In the realm of dreams and perpetual danger, time seemed to twist and turn around itself, losing all meaning known to man. There was no telling for how long Hawke had been in the Fade. The only telltale was his body waning away to hunger. It must have been a few days already, maybe a week since Inquisitor and his Warden friend had left.

The heaviness of struggle increased with every step Hawke took. He needed rest. He’d been fighting demons for what could have been a few hours. While there was no food to be found, a rest welcomed him in every crevice and dark corner obscured from the green glow. Hawke slinked away in the nearest one large enough to shield him from view.

Only when he hit the ground, or whatever it was that he walked on here, did Hawke realize the extent of his exhaustion. His muscles ached, even those he had not previously known he even had. Everything was filled with dull, pulsating pain. His head lulled to the side, heavy breathing escaping as he steadied himself with the help of the staff, carefully - the item's state worried him.

His extensive use of it in the Fade had weakened the staff. Lines of cracks had spread across the crystal on top of his weapon, the faint spiderweb of weakness growing more apparent with every hour spent fighting. Of course, he had no need for a staff to use magic. But it helped direct, guide and focus the ever so chaotic force of it. Hawke was uncertain if in his current condition he could do so on his own. He might set flames to everything around, including himself.

"Crap," his voice croaked from disuse.

Hawke did not bother clearing his throat anymore. There was no reason. This was a fight to the death that he suspected to come soon by the general outlook of things, and he was the only person left that would hear himself.

Sudden bitterness filled his chest. There had been no time to have the others relay even a goodbye. Now everyone would worry- Varric, left behind in Skyhold, Isabela, Aveline, Anders, Merrill-... His thoughts froze at the image of the final person appearing in his mind. Fenris.

No. Fenris was not going to worry. He was going to get angry, then upset, then-... Then Hawke did not know. He had seen much of his lover and his emotions but this was unpredictable. Losing Hawke meant losing everything - Fenris had made it an abundantly clear.

_Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you._

_I can’t bear the thought of living without you._

Dark brows furrowed, pain painted across Hawke’s face. He had betrayed Fenris and the promise to never leave his side.

The exhaustion won despite the guilt, and Hawke’s eyelids fell closed. Once again he was enveloped in horrible nightmares of his most precious friends, his lover, his family suffering – all because of him. The pain he felt when awake was so profound it had found a way to seep even into his rest. While sleep replenished a little of his energy, it did nothing for his heart. Perhaps, he awoke in even more pain than he had fallen asleep to. The endless loop he was stuck in the arse-end of this cursed place.

***

Every time Hawke opened his eyes, there was a glimmer of hope that it all had been just a long, twisted nightmare. And every time that hope was extinguished as soon as ache, hunger and view of endless green became clear. Hawke felt his heart sink. Of course. He had been lucky enough to survive through all the crazy stuff that had happened in Kirkwall already – a miracle, really. That luck had an end somewhere. He had always known it. But this place seemed to be the worst possible option. He was torn away from everything and everyone he loved.

Still, there was enough fight left in Hawke to stand his ground until the very end. He might not be a warrior but he was planning to go out as one and take as many demons with him as he could. That was the least he could do for everyone left behind, everyone counting on him.

Hawke pushed himself to his feet, using the staff for balance. His vision blurred for a moment. Even effort this little was near unbearable. ...He had to hurry with fighting if he planned to accomplish anything before the end of his tale caught up.

Oddly enough, no demons had been drawn to his presence. They usually were, even during the shortest of naps. He had to stand and fight right away. Was he weak enough for the Fade already claiming him, making him one of its own? Was he about to-? No. He still had strength enough to walk, he still was himself. Then what, in Andraste’s name, was going on?

A distant sound of a fight caught his attention. Had demons attacked one another? That would be the first time he saw something like that, even after having spent who-knows-how-long here. Curiosity piqued, Hawke turned to make his way towards the sound of clashing he heard echoing over the waters, rocks and plains of the Fade. He knew he was walking into danger, but he would be with every step taken in this realm anyway.

The closer he came, the more distinct the sounds got. Those were not twisted voices of demons alone. Battle yells and metallic heaviness of sword colliding with something cut the air. Demons did not use swords. Hope welled up in Hawke’s chest. Had they come back for him? Was there still hope for him? He had been disappointed many times over already but the cautiousness could not guard his heart from a swelling hope. It clung to him like a sight of water to a thirsty man.

And then he saw it – color unlike any other he’d seen in here. A bright gleam of white. The Fade was green and dark as far as the eye could see with only the demons coloring it anything else. Nothing that belonged to this place was so blindingly white. Hawke’s breath caught in his throat, and vision blurred with tears – from brightness, from the weight on his chest shattering to bits. He’d know that glow anywhere.

***

The elf, filled with enough fuming energy to take on what seemed like twenty demons single-handedly, roared and slashed left and right. Each swing of the greatsword ringed with metal and rage. Lyrium had turned him into a blazing torch – a lure like no other in Fade. But Fenris did not suppress his emotions. He had come in raging, and he did not plan to stop until he had Hawke back at his side. Dead or alive. Though Fenris refused to believe Garrett would have given up that cursed luck of his so easily. He had to be alive.

With last shade collapsing to nothing but smoke, Fenris turned, seeking a way forward. Heavy breathing and anger made him flare even brighter. There was no time to waste. That was when his eyes fell upon the figure watching from a safe distance, hunched over, holding onto his staff to stay standing. Fenris felt his anger fall flat. The bright light of the lyrium markings dimmed and disappeared completely just moments later. He didn’t dare to move. Was it Fade trying to trick him? He would not put it past the demon-infested realm to mess with his mind again.

Hesitant, he lowered the sword and moved closer. Thoughts raced. Could this be him or an illusion? Garrett appeared beaten and exhausted. Was that to make him lower his guard, lull him into a sense of security? As Fenris approached the other, his frown remained, grip on the sword didn’t ease.

It was the broken voice of the other that eased his worries.

“It appears _you_ are the champion this time, Fenris.”

Only Hawke could think to jest at a time like this. Fenris moved forward, no more hesitation present in his movement.

By the time elf’s sword clattered against the rocks forming the surface they stood on, his arms were wrapped tightly around Hawke’s shoulders – smaller, weaker than he recalled. He squeezed tight as if to assure the other he would never let go.

“I told you it was madness!”

Fenris wanted to sound angry, to make it clear just how dire of a mistake had Hawke made by not listening and going on ahead on this suicide of a mission. But his voice, despite its use, was just as broken-up as his lover’s. Tears fell from the green eyes, shut closed tight as he clung to Hawke. Never again would he let this idiot test his luck on his own.

He pulled back from the Hawke. This was no place to have their reunion. They had to return to safety. Kisses and touches, and anger could come after.

“I am taking you home. Come. Merrill opened a way. They are holding the front against any demons that come through, but I imagine it’s no easy task. Let’s go before more of them pour into Kirkwall.”

While he still appeared to think slowly, with struggle, Fenris saw Hawke’s eyebrows crinkle with worry, “The Eluvian?”

Hawke found himself shaken at the thought. It had to be the mirror. No other magic he knew Merrill might possess was specific and intricate enough to open the way to the Fade.

“Yes,” Fenris shook his head. “Blood magic, the mirror. Something. I do not know the details. Now come.”

But Hawke refused to budge. Fenris was about to question the reason, but Hawke spoke first.

“And you are fine with it? Blood magic? Another gateway to the Fade? People could get hurt because of this.”

Fenris stopped and took his time picking the words. He could not hesitate with these, they had a weight to them. After a long pause, he looked up at Garrett, his gaze burning with intense honesty.

“You are the only man in the world worth any accursed blood magic.”

Hawke stared at him in silence, his eyes widened with honest surprise. The words had struck deeper than expected. Humor, however, was the only answer the man could muster up, apparently.

“Is this how you profess your undying love to me?”

From the light glimmer in his eyes, Fenris could tell that the other expected him to brush it off. His jaw tightened, and feelings seemed to overflow. Tough luck, Hawke. This was no matter to joke about.

“No. When I choose to say that I love you, I will make sure you make no mistake of the meaning in my words.”

Garrett’s pale face gained a hint of pink to his cheeks. Fenris felt the corner of his lips curve upwards in a lopsided smirk. He did still hold some power over the mighty Champion yet. Hopefully, enough to get him to move. They had an exit to return to.

“Now, come already!”

**Author's Note:**

> Found this piece gathering dust in my computer. Thought it was about time to put it out there after refreshing it here and there a little. I'm still weak for this ship : D


End file.
